


Undertow

by Zairafuana



Series: Cemetery Sweethearts [11]
Category: NCIS: New Orleans
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Chris can think on his feet, Chris is very strong-willed, Dwayne wants to go home, Half-crazed plans, M/M, Mama Takuka tells her story, Panic and Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8061253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zairafuana/pseuds/Zairafuana
Summary: Trapped in a light-less catacomb beneath a decrepit church, Chris has to deal with fighting off a darkness that's haunted the shadows of his mind for over ten years while also trying to stop his loved ones from being the victims of a madwoman.Meanwhile, in the clutches of the disturbed Voodoo witch Mama Takuka, Dwayne is told the history of a woman that wants to tear his city out from under him and Chris. Can he keep his slipping consciousness together long enough to help the two most important people in his life?Time is running out for a lot of people and neither man knows if they'll fix things in time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys. Sorry it took so long. English and Spanish classes have been rough. Anyways, I'm not sure how to feel about this one. I feel like it's more of a bridging story than anything really. Sorry if it sucks, I just wanted to get something out because the next one'll probably be kinda long and take a while. Also, I have no idea why but Chris went all MacGyver in this one. Was kinda weird.
> 
> Warnings: Talk of drugs and a very twisted view on life.
> 
> Disclaimer: I only own what's not canon, especially Mama Takuka, her backstory and her history with Chris.
> 
> Also, just want to give a quick shout out to all my commenters. Thank you all. Means so much in this rough year for me. Please, if you enjoy the fic, drop me a comment. Even if it's just a couple words, means the stars to me.
> 
> Title comes from the song Undertow from the Imaginaerum score soundtrack. Story was influenced (how Chris and a few other people's minds feel a pull down towards the dark) by that song and the orchestral version of Ghost River (a song by Nightwish)

**Day 11 - 11:49 (-ish) PM**

The lack of light in the tunnel-like basement of the church had no part in the darkness crowding in on Chris. His shaking hands had sweaty palms as he stared down at the syringe he was holding. His racing pulse pounded in his ears as his breath came in quick gasps. Anxiety manifested with the feeling of something crawling under his skin.

He could not look away from the silvery liquid as it shimmered in the flashlight's beam. It glistened like moonlight as it shifted in its glass cage like mercury. He could not help himself as he comtemplated just dropping the flashlight and injecting the poison into himself. He could not fight it, he had not lied in the letter about the drug still calling to him. Plus, it would get him where he needed to be, wouldn't it? Just looking at it was like a siren's song. It shimmered like the evening star in the darkest night. It glistened so brightly, it reminded him of how the silver in Dwayne's hair shimmered in the hot New Orleans sunlight during the summer.

The world and Chris' train of thought suddenly crashed to a halt. The drug's trance shattered as memories of his boyfriend popped into his head. He was left jittery and gasping, tears of frustration clinging to his eyelashes. His arm jerked and he forcibly threw the syringe to the stone floor. The vial shattering upon impact, its contents splattering out to cling to his shoes and the bones below.

He swallowed convulsively and desperately wiped his hand on his jacket but was unable to remove the filthy feeling that was left. He felt repulsed and nauseous for just thinking about doing it. Oh god, how was he ever going to explain that to Dwayne?! He had almost made a mockery of everything they stood for.

He shook his head and shakily reached into his pocket. He felt no relief when his clammy fingers grasped the phone he had stolen from one of the pushers. Only anxiety and fear ran his mind as he desperately typed in the only number that came to mind.

Over the years under Dwayne's care and training, Chris had become a calm patient person. He had shed his icy heart when he had joined the man and had turned into a better one because of it. Though, now all sense of calm and patience seemed to have desolved as he listened to the phone ring on the shoddy service until he got Brody's voicemail finally.

"B-brody, it's LaSalle. A-ah need yer an' Percy's help. Tha' witch has King an' little Laurel, Ah need to stop her bu' Ah don' think Ah can do it on mah own. Ah'm sendin' yu the address. Phone's about to die. Bring back up!"

He ended the call and stared at the time on the phone before turning it off. It was midnight, twelve in the morning on the twelth day since this nightmare had started again. He did not want to do this anymore. He just wanted to be at home with Dwayne and talk about everyday things while drinking something warm, it was freezing down here.

With effort, he pulled himself from his wary mindset and focused. He was running out of time. He knew this woman, she was patient but only as long as her games were played. By breaking the syringe and calling for help, he had broken the rules. He had cheated and she did not take well to betrayal.

His thoughts slowly switched to problem-solving. He turned his light on the snakes once more. His heart pounded hard but he tried to ignore it so he could think. He needed a plan, and quickly, because it would not be long until Takuka lashed out. He had only been off the radar for little over a day and she had grown angry. She had gotten to Dwayne to make Chris come back to her, and it had worked.

He gritted his teeth as he looked about. The path was too narrow to walk around the snakes and the massive creatures had extremely long reaches. Chasing them out would also take too long as well.

He huffed in frustration as he looked about for a way to deal with them. He frowned suddenly as a terrible idea came to mind, theyattacked when threatened or hungry, the effect was worse still when they were both. He just had to use that to occupy them.

Looking down, he had all the supplies he needed. The stale blood on the floor was acting like glue as it congealed. He knelt down on one knee and placed his flashlight down on the cleanest section of floor he could find. He swallowed thickly as he reached down and grabbed a handful of sticky chicken feathers. He shakily molded them around a piece of rubble and bits of broken bone.

He continued this until he had about four made. He was hoping that in the darkness the feathers would trick the heightened senses of the snakes. Though, that brought up a new issue. Animals could tell the difference between old and new blood, they would know the blood was old. He knew they would never strike out at the decoys if the blood was stale. He felt a bit sick as he knew what he had to do.

He cleaned his filthy hands on his jeans as best he could before he desperately searched his pockets for something sharp. Panic shot through him as he found nothing. He had only one option left with the time he had.

He quivered and shakily wiped his sleeve over his eyes as he made his decision. He knew it was stupid, knew it was dangerous, but it had to be done. He took a calming breath and hesitantly reached down again. His fingers slipped slightly as he picked up the largest piece of the shattered syringe.

He held his breath as he opened his other hand. He cleaned the glass shard on his pants as much as he could but it did little to help, the thick silvery liquid clung to it. He forced himself to ignore that and grimmaced as he forced the cuts on his palm to reopen with the slice of the glass. He sucked in a breath at the pain and forced the glass deeper until the blood began to well up. Tears began to dampen his eyes as his hand started to ache with a pain worse than was normal for such a cut. He tried desperately no to think about why. He already knew it was from the silvery substance flowing in as the blood flowed out.

He slowly breathed through the agony as it sluggishly trailed up his arm as bloodflow took control. It was nowhere near a dose but less of a substance had killed before. He whimpered softly and let the glass fall, not even hearing it clatter. He bit back a sound of pain as he squeezed his cut hand into a fist, the blood readily dripping through his fingers. He let the blood fall over his creations and coat them in the new scent. He then aimed his flashlight away from the snakes slightly, leaving them in just enough light for him to see them.

He did not know a lot about these snakes but he had researched them a bit for school when he was younger. He knew they usually tried to flee unless aggitated. It did not surprise him that Takuka had kept them just upset enough that he could not follow her.

He hoped his rediculous little trick would work. He took off his jacket before standing. He grabbed his diversions and stood up. He gave them a light throw at sections of the snake hoard. He was rewarded with the serpents striking towards the feel of feathers and the scent of fresh blood. While they were distracted and fighting amongst themselves, he ran towards them. He threw his jacket atop the furthest part of the group and jumped to it.

He winced in sympathy as he landed with his full weight atop of one of the innocent creatures. He forced himself to roll forward at the end of his jump to clear the snakes. His heart was pounding with adrenaline and terror as one of the snakes struck out at his previous location.

He swore softly as his roll slammed him into the stone throne. He slumped slightly before he pressed his hand to his ribs where they had made contact with the chair. He knelt slightly to catch his breath. He was even more physically and emotionally exhausted than he had been when he had gotten to this hellish place. The irony that it was a church was not lost on him as he shakily forced himself to stand.

"Ah have been playing way too many video games with Cade." He grunted as his knees felt like they were about to go out on him. His aching ribs made it uncomfortable to breathe but he did not believe he had broken anything with such a light impact. He ignored his pain as best he could and walked around the throne.

He found himself wishing he had not left his flashlight behind. He left that thought behind and pulled the phone from his pocket once more. He turned it on and waited for it to boot up. He frowned when he saw it only had about 6% power left as he set all the settings to their lowest. He needed to use the phone as a light for as long as he could. He may be in a catacomb but he was sure he could make it to the end if he followed the gore.

_**~*~NCIS~*~** _

Brody groaned softly as she stepped out of her shower and grabbed her towel. She ruffled most of the water from her hair before she wrapped the towel around herself. She was tired and worried, her little NCIS family was falling to shambles.

She sighed tiredly and began to blowdry her hair. She blinked sluggishly at herself in the mirror before something caught her eye. She frowned softly as she turned towards where her phone sat on the counter. The blinking light of a waiting message surprised her. She quickly scooped up the device and dialed her voicemail.

Her eyes widened in horror as she heard Chris' frantic message. She quickly checked the address text before hurridly calling Percy. It took a few minutes but she got through to her fellow agent. The two quickly formilated the plan to meet at the church and call the NOPD enroute.

_**~*~NCIS~*~** _

_**Day 12 - morning - About 12:15 AM** _

Awakening to a confusing world of darkness and pain was never pleasant. Lacking the will to open his eyes only made the situation worse as Dwayne regained consciousness. He winced in discomfort, his shoulders were stiff and aching. They were raised due to his wrists being strung up above his head, the circulation to his hands being cut off. The accumilated pain of his shoulders, wrists, aching head, and finally the wound in his side threatened to drag him back to unconsciousness.

It took several minutes but he finally staved off the feeling and slowly opened his eyes. He was too exhausted to show how surprised he was to find himself in a swampy graveyard lit by tiki torches. His eyes took a minute to focus on what sat before him.

There was a young woman sitting cross-legged on a massive tree stump. She wore a masquerade mask and her silver tattoos reflected the light of the full moon. He grimmaced at that fact. How long had he been out? Though, the question seemed pointless and he just said the first real worry that came to mind.

"Where's mah daughter?" He did not remember much about how they were taken, details were fuzzy. He could only remember that they both had been abducted.

"She is safe for now." Dwayne held back more questions as the tone of the reply quickly told him she would tell him no more right now. He watched as the young woman cocked her head to the side, the wooden bells in her hair jingled. She slowly unfolded her legs and stepped off the stump while he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. He glared at her but she simply ignored him as she stopped before him.

She frowned as she touched the hair above his forehead where the fringe was a lighter color. She trailed the finger down his forehead, over his nose, across his lips, and finally down his chin. He glared at her but did not truly react until she touched him a bit more intimately. He jerked away from her slightly as she pressed her hands to his ribs. He growled tiredly as she slowly ran her hands down his sides. Her fingers trailed along his flanks then down his hips and thighs. The intent was oddly not sexual in nature, rather it seemed more like she was appraising him. Still, that did not give her permission to touch him.

"Interesting." The comment was quiet as she pulled her hands away and she turned. She walked back to her stump and crawled back atop of it. She crouched and stared at him intently, "Why choose you? Quite appealing for your advanced age but still past your prime, have already fathered a child that is now grown, and you suffer from the joint issues of your age range." Dwayne did not know whether to be insulted or to agree with her. To be honest, he still felt like he was a placeholder for something better. Exactly how long would Chris seriously want to keep this going? He quickly shut off that line of thought and focused on her. He would be of no use in he begn to doubt himself.

"It's not purely physical." He could not believe he was even responding to her, "Ah offer him somethin' he could not find elsewhere. A connection and understandin' 'e required." Her body jerked angrily at this, shouting.

"He 'ad only to be true!" Dwayne found himself truly surprised to hear the hurt clear in her voice. His world turned off kilter as he realized that this woman truly had loved Chris and had thought she was loved in return. She had been scorned and betrayed, a hurt only fixed with revenge.

She slowly stood tall upon the stump. Wooden bells and bone jewelry clattered in the breeze. She clicked her tongue and two drug-induced thralls walked to her. She motioned towards Dwayne and the two men walked to him. They cut him loose from the poll his hands were bound to. Dwayne collapsed to his knees on the moist ground, the movement jostling his aching wound. He was left too tired and sore to strike out against them.

"Two questions."

"What?" The confusion was evident in his voice as he tried to unravel her statement.

"That's one, choose your second a bit more wisely. But Ah'll reply. You 'ave one question left to ask me anything and Ah'll answer. Unfortunately, questions about your lovely daughter are out of the question." She stepped off the stump once more and walked over to him.

"Awlright. Why're you doin' all this?"

"Simple. Life is supposed to be enjoyed." That answer honestly took him by surprise, it was very unexpected. She knelt before him and clicked her tongue, "Ah don' 'ave much time left to enjoy it." This answer was getting more confusing and unexpected by the second. He blinked slowly as he watched her open the tiny leather bag at her hip while she continued.

"It all began when As was born. Ah was born with a weak heart." She pulled a tiny wood jar out of the bag and removed its lid, "As Ah grew, Ah found the only pleasure Ah got from humans was in their agony. When Ah was a child in my African village, Ah used to sell people out to the cruel leader just to watch them be tortured." Dwayne felt sick at the information but refused to comment in fear of upsetting her strange calm. He watched her move the jar's lid aside and stick two fingers in. When they came out, there was this strange green paste on her fingers.

"When Ah was seven, we moved to America. We called this city our new home. Ah was disappointed until Ah saw the effect of illegal substances on humans." Her lips pulled back to expose her disturbing teeth. She looked up from her jars to look into his eyes. She began to run the green substance into the front fringe of his hair, "The agony these people suffered, Dwayne, it was beautiful. Ah just had to see more. Ah was twelve when Mama Takuka was born and fed on the agony of my schoolmates." Dwayne's soft eyes could not hide the horror he felt. He had seen so many things in his line of work but never this. It broke his heart to think of a child becoming a drug dealer just to cause pain. He fought back the nausea that churned in his stomach as she closed the jar. And when had they moved to first names?

"You see, Dwayne, that's why Ah'm still here. With my heart, Ah should have died a good twenty years ago. But, joy is the best medicine."

"You used their suffering to keep yourself healthy and happy."

"My, my, you are a smart one. Apparently Chrissy likes you for somethin' besides yer body. But yes, that's exactly it. And Ah was actually lasting so long as Ah had never been caught. That is, until little Christopher LaSalle came along and wrapped me around 'is little finger." She hissed softly and opened another jar. The paste of this one was purple and she began to draw patterns on his hair with it, "He wormed his way into mah heart, bringing with him a new type of joy Ah had never dreamed of experiencing. It could never be replicated by anyone but him, how that angered me. Then he betrayed me! Tried tah steal mah joy and left me with a piece missin'! Almost broke mah heart, literally, so Ah broke him!" She angrily closed the lid on the jar and yanked a flask out of her bag.

"Ah had tah run, had tah flee once they came for him. Ah was so sick tha' Ah left tah heal. It was a few years later Ah was in a hospital fer mah heart in Alabama. Ah met an interestin' woman there, she told me about her son the federal agent. Told me how this city held his little heart. It was then that Ah saw the path to mah retribution." Her eyes widened and seemed to glow in the torchlight. She held the flask to him.

"Drink up, Dwayne." She frowned and glared at him when he silently refused to move, "Drink now or Ah'll start killin' yer daughter. An' it's a long process, Love." It took everything he had not to lunge at her at the threat. He stopped himself barely because hurting her would never get his Laurel back. Plus, her thralls would easily overpower him and he would be in worse shape.

He glared death and ice at her as he shakily took the flask in his still half-asleep hands. He could not believe what he was doing as he drank the horrific-tasting fermented juice. If he made it out of this, Loretta was going to kill him.

"Good boy." She chirped and took the flask back, "Ah'm a sadist, not soulless."

"That's debatable."

"Tsk, tsk, cheeky. Nasty temper ya 'ave." She put everything back in her bag and stood up, moving away from him, "Now, perhaps you three will live long enough to see your precious city burn. If'n Ah'm goin' ta go, Ah'm goin' with a BANG!" He jerked slightly in surprise as her calm voice ended in a shout as she leapt onto the stump. Panic shot through Dwayne but he swallowed it down.

"Bomb's no' really your style."

"Course no', Love. The're so crude." She grinned evilly at him and licked her lips, "Wha' Ah 'ave in plan is much worse."

What could be worse than a bomb in a city full of innocent people?

"It's an interestin' thin' when you turn violent cannibals into Voodoo zombiees." Her eyes glowed in the moonlight, "You en' up gettin' real zombies! Little cliché but tha's mah right as an American! It took several years to get so many but Ah did 'ave all that drug money saved up. It was jus' going tah waste, so Ah thought Ah'd use it on mah bucket list. So Ah finally got tah spend it on somethin' fun!" She raised her hands to the sky and howled in laughter. Dwayne was frozen, just staring at her in horror. She had actually found a way to unleash a zombie apocalypse on New Orleans. That was new, even for this city.

"Chris broke mah heart an' ruined me. So, now Ah'll rip his out and eat it as mah last meal!" She snarled the words out viciously at Dwayne, "Now, Ah 'ave to be leavin'. Chris'll be here soon. You two have four hours ta find yer daughter in the swamp. At sunrise, the door to her cage'll open and the chemical concoction Ah jus' gave you will paralyze you long enough for you both ta be gatorbait (don' try washin' it off, it reacts badly with water)!"

She stepped from the stump, calling her thralls to her as she walked out into the wetlands.

"Tah human misery, Agent Pride!"

_**~*~End~*~** _

**Author's Note:**

> I am here to apologize for being Takuka being being such a crapily made character. If I'm honest with you guys, she was based on a single Simpsons quote: "To human misery."  
> It's a line said by the villain in a McBain movie Homer and Bart are watching. That is literally all I had when I made her, that's why she's rather lacking. Sorry if I disappointed anyone.
> 
> Also, about the zombie thing. That's been coming since like the second fic. I happen to like zombie cliches, i'm sorry.


End file.
